


Worth the Wait

by AQA473



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Blood Kink, F/F, Oral Sex, PWP, Surprise Sex, Vaginal Fingering, mild but it's there, remeber that one witch that was talking about great sex on the last mission of dishonord2?, this is her, this is like an oc but not an oc, why is there not an offical witch tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQA473/pseuds/AQA473
Summary: Emily creeps through Dunwall, not decrepit and alien. In a derelict building, she finds a witch waiting for her main squeeze. Emily won't leave this witch disappointed.





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this is relevant anymore, what with Death of the Outsider out, but I really love the witches. There might be more. But, I know this won't get a lot of traffic. Oh well. I love the witches way too gaddamned much. Ugh. Have a witch.

The city’s a sty. It’s gone to the dogs, both figuratively and literally. Feral mutts roam the streets, guarding their territory, while gangsters squat in decaying buildings. Dunwall’s always been grey, but this is something else. What was once home to the nobility now looks more akin to the Flooded District. With every step, I crunch debris, discarded cigarettes, and dried blood. The rail’s been destroyed, collapsed in multiple places, which means the power’s out and makes it useful for silent travel.

Void tendrils stretch from my fingertips, an extension of myself, and grip a platform over a doorway. Wind rushes past me as I pull myself to it, landing quietly.

“Green eyes… said he’d come.”

A woman’s voice, stringy, but I can’t make out everything she’s said. The only women I’ve seen since I got here were cowering civilians near the docks and Hatters.

I pull myself to the bottom of a dilapidated building, or what’s left of one. The entire front half is gone, and the rest looks like it’s waiting for a stiff wind to blow it down. I creep up through the building, scaling fallen beams and climbing into holes rotted through the wood.

“Whenever he’s between my legs, it’s all I can think about for days.”

Definitely not a Hatter. Though, probably dating one. Sounds like a witch, but that’d be a little odd. Wouldn’t they want to be closer to their mistress, especially if they’re anticipating me?

I turn the corner and ash falls in front of me. Smells like a cigarette.

“I’ve never seen a man with hips like his, but he’s gonna pay for making me wait,” the witch says, tapping her cigarette on a broken bed post.

She’s above me, on what’s left of a floor. It’s simple work sneaking around the corner beneath her then I pull myself onto the landing behind her. The floor’s collapsed into the shape of a U, a big gaping hole in the middle. The left side has fallen a few feet, creating a shallow ramp leading up, and the witch stands to my right. She’s standing on some boards laid out over what’s left of the floor, likely for extra support for… activities.

She stands there, left arm over her waist, right pressing a cigarette to her lips. The roses growing around her neck shiver and pale slightly as she inhales, then return to a subdued red when she breathes out. Despite the balmy weather here, she doesn’t seem bothered by the cold, forearms and calves exposed.

Mr. Green Eyes seems to be late for his own party. I don’t suppose he’ll mind if I pick up where he left off.

I stand, stowing my sword and tip-toeing behind her. Amongst all this rot and decay, she smells like flowers and smoke.

“Was it something I said? I know he doesn’t like me being loud, but I didn’t think he’d be this bitter about it. I’ll make him pay, for sure,” she says.

Now, I stand behind her, breath shrouded by my mask. I pull it down and hide my ring in my pocket. I finally part my lips, air falling on her grey neck. The flowers shake and she rolls her shoulders.

“Finally! What took you so long? Why’d you have to sneak up behind me, ya scab?”

I rub her arms and she drops the cigarette. She’s still facing forward, eyes closed as I place a few kisses on her back. Her skin’s cold, but smooth like a flower pedal.

“Mh.” She glances over her shoulder, and stares directly at me. Her eyes widen and tries to back away, but I wrap my arms around her, pinning her back to my chest.

“Emily!”

I cover her mouth. The void leaks from me, coming out in a thin miasma. It’ll stop her from using any of the tricks Delilah taught her.

“Shh.” I kiss her neck, then her cheek. “Sound like your boyfriend couldn’t make it. I probably knocked him out, sorry about that, but don’t worry. My hips will fit nicely between your legs.”

She struggles as my left hands drifts down her body, sliding down the front of her overalls. She whimpers through my fingers, body relaxing.

“I’ll be gentle, promise.” I lick one of her flowers. It’s sweet, dew dotting the pedals. She shivers. A hand clenches my leg.

My finger curls inside her, and her hips press into my hand, her clit rubbing against my palm.

“What color do you turn when you come?” I whisper into her ear.

Her mouth moves under my hand, then my other strokes her insides. All that comes out is a moan, breathed into my skin.

“Don’t tell me. I’ll find out for myself.”

I force her into the wall, pressing her chest into the mottled wood. A lamp at our feet illuminates her face. Her eyes are dark, but I can’t tell if it’s because of eyeshadow or an occult spell. I uncover her mouth. She kisses me. I grind my hips into her ass, her tongue diving into my mouth.

She tastes like stew and ash. And, an herb? Likely something concocted to combat pregnancy. She won’t need it with me.

“Awfully compliant,” I say when our lips break apart.

She spits in my face. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

Well, I’m not one to disappoint.

I continue stroking her insides, curling my fingers, and rolling her nub in my palm. My other hand slides up her shirt, cupping a breast and pinching the nipple.

I spin her around, forcing her back against the wall. She grunts as I roughly squeeze her tit. My other hand returns to her folds.

Her hands fumble at my belt. I try to kick them away, my hands occupied, but she manages to yank open my waistband, ignoring my silent protests.

“Don’t- mmh,” I moan as fingers penetrate me. She’s probably filthy. Her skin creates a tingling in me, like a spice coats her hands. It burns, but like a numb burning.

She bites my lip, hard, blood mingling with our saliva.

“Fuck you,” I groan.

“Working on it,” she hisses.

I force two fingers as far in her as they can reach, then thrust Far Reach until I can feel a bulge in her stomach.

“Uhn!”

“Like that?”

I work the void tendrils in and out, coaxing her fluids out, plastering my hand. I slide her shirt up her body to expose her tits, taking one in my mouth. Yep, she definitely has some sort of spice on her body. Did she do this for her Hatter boyfriend? Lucky guy. The spice burns my tongue but leaves a sweet aftertaste. Suddenly, I wish I’d paid more attention to Callista’s lessons on herbs and tinctures.

Vines creep down her chest, one curling around my chin and piercing my cheek. Blood trickles down as I suck her nipple between my teeth.

Her one finger in me curls and twists, coating my insides with her herbal concoction. My mouth lolls on her breast, tongue swiping the underside.

She breathes heavily. “Like that? Something new I made, just last night. Never thought my first subject would be the false empress.”

“Uhh,” is all I can manage, her poison seeping into me. It burns my blood, making me warm, sweat beading on my brow. My breath falls over her grey breasts as my tongue flails uselessly, trying to lap up more of her.

A second finger joins her first, and a third. Her other hand rubs the palm into my clit.

I cough as a tremor rings up my body. My thighs spasm as I come.

My hand, still knuckle-deep in her, wraps the void tendrils into a ball and fills her. She shakes, too, joining me. My eyes shut, preventing me from seeing her flowers bloom.

“See the shade?”

“No.”

I fall to my knees, her hands slipping from my pants. I yank down hers and face her pussy. It’s flared and moist, glistening in the dim lighting from the street. I can’t wait, grabbing her thighs and pulling my face to her. Her hands and vines fly down and tangle in my hair.

She’s bitter, like vinegar. I don’t think she spread her powder down here. Bitch shoved that all up in me. I swipe a hand over the back of her leg, scooping up as much of the powder as I can, and shove it into her. She squeals for a moment before silencing herself.

“Fuck…”

The mixture of spicy, bitter, and sweet is incredible. The flavors surround my tongue as I plunge into her folds. Juices spills out onto my cheeks, into the cuts on my face and lip. It burns and makes me wet.

I’m pretty sure her vines cut my scalp, but I don’t care. My teeth scrape her clit as I dive further. She’s loose, inviting, my tongue scraping inside her.

She quakes and falls down the wall. I let her, guiding her slowly to the floor, then grab her ass and pull her to me before burying myself in her again.

I speed up, rubbing my thumb over her nub, and she pounds her fist on the shaky floor as she stifles a scream.

“Em-empress…”

The title, once such a burden and recently an insult, now fires my core. What would Delilah think to hearing one of her coven saying this to me? I suck on her hard, shoving two fingers into her.

Her thighs squeeze, pulling my closer. A hand yanks my hair, vines pinch my arms and ears, blood and feminine juices intermingle like a disgusting potion. Spices, juices, her orgasm, all hit me at once. She quivers around my tongue and doesn’t hide her scream. I groan from the pain of her pulling my hair.

I let her ride the waves on my mouth, lapping up every drop of her. Her spice makes my body weak and my mind idles, eyes threatening to spin. A few more weak thrusts into my teeth and she stops, still as a tomb.

Her hands and legs relax, releasing me.

I sit up, wiping my face with the back of my hand. Her flowers shrivel around her neck, but they’re a muted orange. Their fragrance still wafts in the air. Citrus. I snort a laugh.

“Citrus. Sexy.”

“Shut up,” she says weakly. Her eyes glaze over, staring into the sky to my left. I join her, looking out.

Smog shrouds the heavens, but I can imagine the stars staring down. Our sins are hidden.

She grabs my hand.

“Make it quick.”

I blink. “What? Another round? I’m a little tired; sorry.”

“Won’t you kill me?”

I cough, covering my mouth as I grin. “Oh, heavens, no! I don’t kill people, you silly witch.”

“Huh?”

“What kind of lies does Delilah fill your head with? Every time I’ve met your kind, I either leave them or knock them out. If they never come home, well, that’s Delilah’s doing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want,” I say. “Thanks for the orgasm, though.” I lean down and kiss her.

She resists for a second, then kisses back. It’s soft, gentle, all her strength gone. I wonder what the taste of her is like on my lips.

“Sorry about your boyfriend.”

“Whatever. He’s just a fling.”

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll leave you alone. Just don’t expect to see the Tower ever again.”

“Hadn’t planned on it.”

I smile. I quickly fasten my belt and pull my cowl up.

“When do I get to taste you?” She looks at me from the floor, still a heap of a person. Her eyes are so unsettling, but wet and probing.

“Who knows?”

I choose a perch across the street and Far Reach to it, leaving the witch’s side in an instant. I don’t look back. I can feel her eyes boring into my backside, but I don’t want to see. It’s just a fling.


End file.
